


Mistakes

by orphan_account



Category: The Killing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:36:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's already a mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: smoke, mistake.

  
It's already a mistake, even as Linden strips, throwing her sweater and shirt on the chair in the corner. She can smell the smoke on Holder's hoodie when he throws it past her. Holder's apartment’s in a bad part of town, but that doesn't really surprise Linden. Getting clean is one thing, but trying to put down roots in another. The sheets are clean, though. She can still see the creases where they were folded.  
Holder pulls her back towards the bed, hands dropping to her pants, hooking his fingers around the belt loops and kissing her. He may smell like smoke, but he tastes like cheap beer and mouthwash -- at least it isn't pork rinds. Antsy movements, pushing down her pants and panties, dropping her cell phone on the bedside cabinet beside his own, and pushing her back onto the bed before he strips. Beneath his clothes, Holder's all sharp angles and edges, the tattoo stark against his skin when he turns around the grab a condom.  


They don't bother with foreplay (she doesn't expect to; you don't try to make your mistakes last) and it's just the quick, almost rough, thrust of his cock inside her, making her gasp more in shock than pain. He doesn't feel like Rick, who was strong and solid in ways that ended up making him all wrong for her – Holder’s stubborn too, and he’s got an attitude problem to match hers, but he doesn’t expect her to fall in line behind him. He’s completely different, stuck in the rhythm of someone who’s experienced and more than capable of getting them both off, but a little out of practice.  


Holder’s got one hand splayed across her back, pressing almost hard enough to bruise as his hips jerk against hers and her slides the other down between their bodies to rub her clit and it’s been too long (since before she stood in an airport minutes after her plane landed and said, _I have to go back_ like a verdict and he hung up and never called again) and she’s been tense for too long, her life all tangled up in murders and mistakes and—  


Linden scrapes her nails across his tattoo when she comes, hard enough that she knows that she’ll leave a mark, but not hard enough to make him bleed. She catches the stutter of his breath and the low curse when he comes with one final thrust, saying something that’s either a curse or her name, or maybe both.  


They don’t look at each other when he pulls out of her and gets up to drop the condom in the bin. Linden half expects him to leave or ask her to leave when he comes back. She doesn’t expect him to look at her like he’s trying to decide if this is a big mistake or a mistake that can fit in to him life without ripping it apart when he tries to forget about it. Whatever he decides, it can’t be that bad because he crawls up the bed and spreads her legs.  
He’s good with his mouth and Linden’s sure that, the next time someone talks about Holder’s smart mouth, this is all she’s ever going to be able to think about – his mouth on her, tongue lapping at her in a way that only comes from skill and experience. It doesn’t take long for her to come again, softer than the first, more like a slow slid into pleasure than the quick release, sighing in the near silence of the room and drawing a chuckle from Holder. He looks up at her and smiles, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

  
"Blew. Your. Mind." Holder laughs a few minutes later, loose limbed and easy from the release and she rolls her eyes and doesn't dignify that with a response. The follow up she expects – something along the line of _you’re a great lay, Linden_ , doesn’t come. He lights another cigarette and, this time, he doesn't offer her one. That's okay. They all make mistakes and this isn't the time for a smoke, anyway. “I’ve always been good at going down on women. I like the screamers.”  


Celibate and breaking your streak by fucking your partner? Linden knows she's not the only one making a mistake here and that makes it better, almost makes it okay. She has Jack to worry about, and she was going to marry, almost married Rich. She loved him, she swears she did, but Linden doesn't want to live her life following someone else's desires.  


 _Jack likes Holder_ , Linden thinks, but she doesn't let the thought go any further, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of the traffic outside.  


“You still going to be here in the morning?” she asks.  


“It’s my apartment. Where else am I gonna go?”  


Right. Of course. Leaving, that’s a good idea, the smart move, but instead she rolls over and pulls up her half of the sheet.  


Tomorrow it's going to be another dead girl and another killer who needs to be caught. They don't have the luxury of making mistakes, not in this job, so they mess up their personal lives instead.  



End file.
